Long Garment Poems
Long Garment Poems. Below are the most popular long Garment by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Garment poems by poem length and keyword.
Man’s survived quakes of an angry Ma Earth,
Giant tsunamis and floods every age,
Red hot eruptions from under her girth,
And tilts of Poles that cause ice age in rage,
Every doom's day prophecy and death-wish,
Surviving long years caught in jaws of death,
Still, born again, though somewhat in anguish,
And paying dear for his undying faith—
Man mortal in immortal Petri dish,
A deathless soul devising fresher breath
That with each passing beat approaches death,
It’s ye O Death, life gets fresh lease of kiss,
Ye that the soul can a new garment don,
Devine boon that life carries on and on,
It’s ye again that man gets wise, once gone.
________________________________________
Sonnets | 07.11.2011, revised April 2023|
Poet’s note: Yea, man is not, but life is immortal. Death is a device to ensure this. It is death that man gets wise, sings this sonnet allowing itself one more line.
I am soft spoken and patient child of God
I wonder will I see my love ones in heaven
I hear the voices of angels singing
I see face of God in the clouds
I want to see Jesus come back to earth
I am soft spoken and patient child of God
I pretend singing my own and others gospel songs
I feel peace in the war
I touch the Savoir's garment as I sing to Him
I worry sometimes my assurance
I cry about my missed loved ones
I am soft spoken and patient child of God
I understand every touch confess and knee shall bow
I say the acknowledgement of Our Lord God
I dream falling and never dying
I try composing ten verses daily
I hope to be a professional lyricist
I am patient and soft spoken child of God
9/24/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.© 2019
Soft is my heart's yearning when Spring appears
She enters regally adorned in green
Awaits the ascending moments of cheers
Whether flowers with bees or those unseen
Sun's morning dress is a garment of white
To enhance Spring's beauty of Nature's bloom
And still, the long darkness as days turn bright
Bury Winter in its seasonal tomb
Spring enters and leaves Winter's grave behind
When billowing clouds and blue skies unite
The world's alive, the seasons realign
As flowers of Spring begin to ignite
To see the beauty of Nature come in
To welcome each Spring in the heart again
5/3/20 Spring Rhyme Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet
He walked upon her in the woods
Lying there, with placenta and blood on her skin
He didn't question where she was going
But knew where she had been
~unwanted, unloved, unnoticed~
He cleaned her carefully
Removed the dead weight and stains of sorrow and grief
He dressed her in royal gowns
Daily changing her value and belief
~desired, delightful, distinct~
When she was grown and ready for love
He gave her a precious stones to wear
Her adornment was a testament
To LOVE's extravagant concern and care
~powerful transformation~
She began to walk among the people
Whispered gashes flew through the air
Words tore her garments
And left her naked to the judgmental stares
~unworthy, undeserving, undone~
He watched from His window
And saw HIS LOVE packaged in an unopened box
Sworn off as a harlot with no lineage
They began to pick up rocks
~thrown away, thwarted, taken down....
down, down, to the very ground
she came up from
What can LOVE do now
When siblings break their own
Rejection is endurable
But family fault finding leaves the redeemed, in the silent alone
of the abyss
what courage can bring
LOVE out of this
She walked away, into the great unknown
With the garment of humility around her waist
Her head bowed low, and gait amiss
With all she'd encountered and faced
~with LOVE~
Seasons passed as she drudged through the days
Looking for LOVE to find her again
She had come to the line of despair
And almost gave in to the lies she discovered there
~abandoned, average,aloof~
LOVE showed up and caught her next breath
Giving back what she believed to be gone
He said, "You are the UNOPENED GIFT
My LOVE has chosen to ride upon
~given, golden, glad~
Rejoicing in the moment, HE took her away
To a City made of gold and jewels
A place where difference is accepted
And creativity with LOVE, rules
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-16-2018
Note: So many gifts Daddy God gives us, that remain unopened, because we fail to value LOVE.
"Blue"
I remember the colour blue
before the ocean turned grey
and I swam into you
I chose to
I chose you
My ocean is warm and inviting
I am the treasure waiting
on your shores
I am the smallest shell unseen
I am your sure
I Am
whispering messages to you
Your Light seen through
pink of satin skin
you are translucent
mon amure mon amour
my mother of pearl
I Am
your grain of sand
waiting to meet you
The message
etched inside you
I float confident in your Ocean
moving closer
towards you
your golden light waits for me
in your sky of shining
Blue
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"Memory Gospel" / Moby
https://youtu.be/ZKpPJrab00A
“who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb,
when I made clouds its garment
and thick darkness its swaddling band"
https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/collection/s0117V1962
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saintes-Maries_(Van_Gogh_series)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vincent_van_Gogh
Creativity and Chronic Disease
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1071623/
On the Verge of Insanity
https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/stories/on-the-verge-of-insanity#0
The Letters of Purpose
https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/12/01/van-gogh-purpose-letter/
The Letters
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Letters_of_Vincent_van_Gogh
I will dance before You, O Lord,
Not with the steps of men,
But with the fire of the Spirit burning in my bones.
I will move without rhythm,
I will leap without pattern,
For my praise is not for show
It is for You alone, my God and King.
I will dance as one set free,
As one who remembers the pit You drew me from.
I will spin like the wind,
My limbs a living offering upon Your altar.
Let the watchers mock
Let the proud turn their gaze away.
I shall become even more undignified than this,
If only to delight Your heart, O Lord.
You are worthy of my praise, O Lord
I will dance in pain and in peace,
In sorrow and in song,
For only you remain faithful in all seasons.
My feet shall testify,
My hands shall proclaim,
That the Lord is good and His mercy endures forever.
Clothe me in Your grace like a garment, O Lord
Let Your joy anoint me like fresh oil.
And if my strength should falter,
Still I will praise You with all I have left.
Blessed be the Lord, who rejoices in the praise of his people
Let my dance be incense before Your throne,
And may Your presence remain with me
Now and forevermore.
Amen.
SEVERE STALKING FROM HITMAN IN HIDING FROM FORT.MYERS FLORIDA FLESH PEDDLERS STALKING THREATS ATTEMPTING TO EXTORT MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY CLAIM DONALD HIRED BY PETER GARGANO TO STRANGLE ME IN COLD BLOOD GOD ONLY KNEW THE MANY DEAD BODIES IN HIS PATH REALIZING HE COULD NOT PERPUTRATE FRAUD UPON MY DECEASED FATHER BORN 1942 DONALD GREW BITTER ANGRY AFTER CONTRACTING A VENERAL DISEASE FROM AN FBI AGENT SUN BATHING WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND ACCOMPLICE IN CIRO GARGANO ARSON MURDER OF 9 THE NINTH VICTIM DONALD WAS HIRED TO SILENCE ME OVER THOSE ARSON MURDERS OVER THE TAILOR SHOP HE CONTROLLED THE GARMENT DISTRICT IN DETROIT HE SIGNED ON TO TAKE OVER THE GARMENT INDUSTRY IN ILLINOIS THAT RESULTED IN THE ARSON IN THE TAILOR SHOP KILLING 8 ELDERLY PERSONS GARGANO WAS FILLED WITH FURY PELLEGREN CONTINUED TO STALK ME TODAY I RECIEVE THREATS HE'S ALIVE AND WELL HIDING OUT SENDING TERRORIST THREATS UNAFRAID OF GAMBINO HITMEN HIRED BY PETER GARGANO THREATS FROM WISCONSIN WOMENS PRISON EARLY RELEASE FOR THE FLESH PEDDLERS SCORE JUST 4 YEARS FOR STABBING FIVE PEOPLE STALKING HOME INVASIONS IN MY HOME GARGANO HITMAN SHOPPING AT THE WISCONSIN WOMANS PRISON FOR VIOLENT OFFENDERS NO FEAR OF MAN DIE SEVERE REPEAT VIOLENT OFFENDER HARD DRUG MANUFACTUER IDENTITY THIEF HOME INVADER NO FEAR OF THREATS FROM WISCONSIN SEVERE REPEAT VIOLENT OFFENDER BRUTALLY TORTURED HER CRIPPLED MOM FOR YEARS RESULTING IN HER DEATH FROM YEARS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE FROM HER OWN MEXICAN DAUGHTER SADLY PELLEGREN DECIDED TO SELECT VIOLENT OFFENDERS FOR HIS FLESH PEDDLINGS SCORES INDER GARGANO CRIME FAMILIY I SURVIVED THESE VIOLENT OFFENDERS ATTACKS ON MY FAMILY BACK OFF FOUR YEARS WAS A SLAP ON THE WRIST FOR STABBING FIVE PERSONS AND BRUTALLY TORTURED HER MOTHER TO DEATH GOD BLESS THE DECEASED PETERS HITMAN DONALD MASSIMO PELLEGREN
Flapping gay garment hung on balcony bannister
Trots obstinate flung spun over railing
Fixated brazen Brigette immune to embarrassment
Boosted bemuse formats never failing
Composed to procure prominence, step with stars
Stage bound show must go on motto
Constellation shift slides velvet curtain aside ajar
Planets orbit origin wins Lyceum lotto
Horoscope high hope performs fame premonition
Bright light box office tickets Brigette
Halcyon sky spiral beehive secures each audition
Sixties seductress frequency fills seats
23rd June
Absurd Truth
I am functioning but broken,
I still answer the calls.
send the emails
and keep the days moving
because life does not pause for pain.
To everyone looking in
I seem like I have things under control.
Inside, burnout sits on my chest
like a heavy bag of cold, wet sand.
It turns the simple act of getting out of bed
into a cold, solid, concrete wall that I just cannot climb over.
I lie there in the quiet...
watching the light shift across the wall,
staring at the dirty clothes,
the unwashed dishes
and the dust gathering on the sill.
My mind a rollercoaster of emotions flying on a loop.
I wonder how I am supposed to keep going.
Will the medicine kick in
because I ran out of strength three weeks ago.
How do you choose joy
when you are carrying a shattered heart in a working body?
You stop pretending you can lift that weight yourself.
You just lay your head back on the pillow
and let the Lord step right into the cluttered room.
He doesn't stand in the doorway shaking His head.
He steps right over the pile of unfinished work,
walks through the dark corners of your mind
and sits down on the dusty floor beside the bed.
He reaches out with calloused hands,
places them right over that cold, wet sand
on your chest.
Pulls your shaking fingers into His own.
He breathes in slow.
Teaching your lungs how to take the very next breath.
Joy isn't pretending the mess went away.
It is looking down and seeing the Lord
sitting right there in the dirt with you.
His sleeves rolled up and His palms warm
against your skin.
It is Him gently turning your face away from the wreckage,
wiping the sweat and tears off your cheeks
and letting you know it is okay to rest
while He sits guard over your soul.
I am functioning but broken, yes.
I am standing in a life covered in dust and scattered pieces.
We are in this together now,
walking this long road side by side,
taking it one single step at a time
as I reach out to touch the hem of His garment.
Although the place where the dead go is called the world beyond,
some say that it’s located underground while others say that it’s located in heaven above.
Since the world beyond is not the real world where you and I live,
it doesn’t make any difference whether you go to heaven above
or netherworld below
the majority of people, when their time comes,
whether they lived their lives virtuously or not,
they want to go to heaven rather than the underworld.
Because the underworld is dark, chilly and damp,
moreover, time doesn’t move forward but is still,
people suppose; heaven is warm, bright and beautiful
with seasonal changes in colorful sceneries.
The thing is, though may it be human nature to choose heaven,
to me, rather hard to comprehend is the one who asserts
that they are the ones who will enter heaven wearing
a garment smeared with covetousness and hide their deformed ugly heart in it.
Most men who allegedly say that they will go to heaven
are those unable to see their own blemishes, no matter how big
they may be, because they are so arrogant and self-centered.
Nevertheless, they spot other’s flaws so easily, no matter
how small they may be, and scold them severely because
they are self-righteous hypocrites.
They donate a fraction of great sums that they collected from
many tenderhearted good people in the name of God or of charity
and boast on themselves though they appropriate the rest of the large
sum for their purposes, as if they sacrificed a lot of their possessions and precious time, as if they were the most caring and understanding human beings.
Though they ill-treated their own parents they shamelessly tell others
to respect their parents, they are deceptive pretenders. They are men
able to trade their own brothers for any price without the pangs of conscience though they once swore before God that they would be faithful to their brothers.
For those human trashes insist that heaven is theirs though
the men who qualify to enter heaven humbly lower their head
without a word, perhaps Peter the owner of the key to heaven,
is troubled badly with men’s ignominies; it would force dignified rigorous Yama*,
the lord of hell, to smile a grim smile.
*Yama, the Chinese and Hindus King of Hell. Hades of the Buddhism.